Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ethiopia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Iggy Pop to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dead Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Connie Case,
Bizarre Inc.,
Icehouse,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Raincoats,
John Holt,
The Cowsills,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Human League,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Juan Atkins,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Quantec,
DJ Style,
The Modern Lovers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Whodini,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Neu!,
The Electric Prunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Janne Schatter,
Mantronix,
The United States of America,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scan 7,
Black Flag,
Groovy Waters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Inner City,
Lou Christie,
Delta 5,
Young Marble Giants,
Aloha Tigers,
Idris Muhammad,
D'Angelo,
Ultravox,
Sugar Minott,
Erykah Badu,
Angry Samoans,
UT,
Pierre Henry,
The Doors,
Joe Smooth,
The Slits,
Gang of Four,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Reagan Youth,
Goldenarms,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deadbeat,
Josef K,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.